Lie
by Nerel
Summary: "When you just want to shout to the world who you really are but chains hold your wrists and a hand covers your mouth you feel powerless." A friend of mine asked me to write a lesbian Pyrrha who would fit in the canon storyline. So... this is it!
**Author's notes:** This work belongs to a prompt series which I'm uploading to AO3 called _A World of Bloody Evolution_ (my user name is Nerel too) _._ I would do the same here but fanfiction doesn't allow the format I require, so all the stories are going to be uploaded as separate works, even so, if you are interested on me writing something just leave a prompt and a pairing and I'll try to comply as soon as possible. Without further ado, enjoy!

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Trying to be someone, something you are not is hard. You feel like you are lying to the others, to your own self. When you just want to shout to the world who you really are but chains hold your wrists and a hand covers your mouth you feel powerless.

Pyrrha had graduated at the top of her class at Sanctum, won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row breaking a new record and her face was on top of every Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes cereal box. She was famous, wealthy and strong. She was the role model for thousands of people, the image of a healthy life style.

The invincible girl.

Obviously the expectations were set high. She was supposed to be perfect. She was to keep her reputation clean. After all, she had signed a contract, she was being paid for winning, for being a public image. When she had put her name on it at the voluble age of 13 she didn't know the consequences it would carry, the sacrifices she would have to make.

At the sweet age of 14 the girls of Sanctum started to feel the impact of hormones, they got boyfriends, they changed. It might had started sooner but Pyrrha hadn't realized. Soon she was the only one without a partner between her small group of friends. She tried dating a few boys but it didn't work. She didn't feel the magic her friends talked about.

She wasn't interested.

At the tender age of 15 she discovered herself reading a forgotten magazine in the locker room of the gym. Everything started to make sense.

She was a lesbian.

She didn't understand the fuse it caused when she told her manager about it. She felt happy. However, as open as her sponsors seemed to be, often making campaigns for faunus equality, they didn't accept her. Their child prodigy had to continue with her pure façade, she had to be loved by the whole world. A scandal wasn't an option. She was told to change. She was told she was sick. And soon, she believed it, her sponsors made sure of that.

She tried hard, she truly did.

16 was a hard age for Pyrrha. She was going to take part in her last tournament before going to Vale to apply into the renowned combat academy: Beacon. Her sponsors provided her a coach who would train her to be the very best. She was an older huntress. Pyrrha was a mess after what happened the last year so she gave her body and soul into training trying to forget, trying not to think, trying to suppress her feelings. She improved immensely but she was breaking herself in the process. The coach was a wise woman and didn't allow her to train until she opened up to her. Pyrrha had cried for hours into the huntress' arms, the trainer saw a younger version of herself in the redhead's eyes and couldn't help it.

She showed her she wasn't sick.

She taught her the meaning of love.

She made her feel normal and special at the same time.

They never had sex. The coach had set the boundaries very clear but for Pyrrha, it was enough. She felt complete.

Happy.

The relationship had lasted for a year and they had grown careless. Pyrrha was 17 and a few weeks away from going to Beacon. She had won her last tournament but kept training under the close inspection of the coach. One fateful day, after working out she had a shower and went towards the lockers. The room was empty save for them.

A towel that slipped.

A kiss that lingered for too long.

A finger that caressed too low.

A muffled moan.

The creak of a door.

The news spread like wildfire. The huntress was fired. The press made it look like she was taking advantage of Pyrrha, even so, the sponsors knew the truth and a new clause was added to the contract. She was not to be with any woman again and had to find a proper male partner to drown out the gossips. Thus, surrounded by sadness and rumors, left to Vale.

There she met Jaune. He was a good boy, a bit clumsy, pretty socially awkward, all in all, a lovable idiot. They became friends really fast and she decided to take fate into her hands. She choose him as her partner and he turned out to be the leader of their team. He had the potential and heart to be a great hunter. She liked him. She liked him a lot.

But she didn't love him.

Yet, Pyrrha pursued him. If she was to be with a man better be someone she felt comfortable with. In a way it made her feel like she was 14 again. But it all became difficult when Jaune's infatuation with Weiss escalated. She felt bad for the poor heiress who didn't know more ways of saying "no" but was also worried for Jaune.

Pyrrha didn't want his heart to break, like hers did. She hadn't forgotten her coach. She knew what would happen and yet refused to accept it, ruining the huntress' carrier, taking away her own freedom.

She felt selfish.

When the dance came and Jaune finally realized Weiss would never love him back. Pyrrha stopped worrying. That night after all the dancing, the late hours making her feel vulnerable and the spiked punch opened her eyes. Jaune cared about her. A lot. But she couldn't continue living a lie. She couldn't learn to love him. The alcohol and Jaune's words gave her the courage she needed.

She broke the contract.

She was not afraid.

She could be herself.

She was free.


End file.
